This Christmas
by DarveyAdventCalendar
Summary: When Harvey shows up on Donna's doorstep on Christmas Eve, he's not just lonely...


**Day 18  
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_**This Christmas**_

_by Specter-Paulsen_

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It's late when he knocks on her door. She rolls her eyes, annoyed but unsurprised at the intrusion. He'd been talking for days about how he was going to work over Christmas and she'd been half expecting him to arrive at her door all evening.

She swings the door open and he's leaning against the frame, cocky smile in place, dressed in chinos and a forest green sweater. She doesn't think he's ever worn green in her presence before.

"How festive," she says, gesturing toward the sweater.

"I was inspired," he replies, referring to the dress she'd worn to work that day. It was her favourite dress, a dark green wool blend, cut low in front, exposing exactly the right amount of freckled cleavage, the heavy fabric falling to her knees in graceful folds.

"Come in," she says, stepping back to let him pass. He makes his way down the hall and into her living room, throwing his jacket over the back of a chair before settling onto the couch. "Make yourself at home," she says with a roll of her eyes but a small part of her thrills at how complete the room looks now he's there.

"Any chance of a drink?" he asks and she rolls her eyes again, this time exaggeratedly for his benefit.

"You know where the kitchen is," she sits purposefully on the couch, taking up her glass of wine and sipping from it. Harvey rolls his eyes back at her and gets up, pulling open kitchen cabinets to pour himself some wine, the ruby liquid sloshing satisfyingly into the glass.

"What are we watching?" He sits next to her again, crossing one leg over the other as he leans back into the couch.

"It's just a cheesy Christmas movie," she says, reaching for the tv remote and flicking off the device.

"Donna Paulsen watching cheesy Christmas movies." He looks gleeful, as if he's discovered a naughty secret and she rolls her eyes yet again. She's been doing that a lot lately, as he's teased her and exchanged witty repartee during long days at the office. She can't put her finger on why it's irritated her so much, his light-heartedness, the easiness in his eyes and his smile. Something is different and she doesn't know what and that irritates her more than she can say.

"I wasn't _watching _it, it was just on," she fires back and his grin widens further, if that's even possible.

"The lady doth protest too much," he says smugly. Her mouth drops open and her thoughts scramble to catch up to what just happened.

"Did you just—"

"Quote Shakespeare? Yes." He interrupts her spluttering shock and she just stares at him. _What the hell is going on with him? _He stares back at her for a moment before relenting with a sigh. "Louis taught me a few key phrases."

"Why?"

"I thought they might come in handy."

"Bullshit," she says, "there's more to it than that."

"I thought it would help us… connect." He shrugs but it's anything but casual. There's a tension settling in the air, the balance shifting. Donna swallows hard, Harvey's eyes fixed on her lips. She watches him for a second and when he shifts slightly on the couch she comes to a realisation.

"Why did you come here tonight, Harvey?"

"I wanted to…."

"To what?" She sees him flounder for words, struggling to articulate what it is he wants. He fixes his gaze on her again and she sees the maelstrom of emotions swirling in his eyes.

"You're lonely, Harvey," she says. "It's Christmas, and you don't want to be alone. That's why you're here."

"It's not. I…" he trails off again, clenching his jaw and she watches the muscles work, letting him stew in the tension. He looks down at the floor, then sips his wine, then looks back at her again. The silence is deafening but she's determined not to break it. This is on him, she's going to push him to speak his mind and tell her what's really going on for once. She takes a swig from her wine glass, the liquid sliding smoothly down her throat and warming her insides as it settles in her stomach, soothing her.

Harvey is still watching her but she deliberately doesn't look at him, pushing off the couch to go pour another glass of wine. She brings the bottle this time, the one Harvey has opened when he arrived, she having finished a bottle on her own before his knocks had disturbed her evening.

"Why aren't you talking?" He asks, finally breaking the silence. "It's weird."

"I'm waiting for you to speak, Harvey. You seem to have something to say and I'm waiting to hear it."

"I didn't come here because I'm lonely, and I didn't come here because it's Christmas. I came here because I needed to see you."

"Why?"

"Because you're… you," he finishes lamely. She shakes her head, irritated again by his lack of candor, his inability to say anything meaningful to her. She knows what he wants to say but she isn't going to let him off that easily. Just because she doesn't believe it, doesn't mean she's going to feed him the lines. She tells him so and he looks pleadingly at her. She's beginning to be impressed by his acting_. Or his… honesty?_ She doesn't want to let herself believe it. She knows it's wishful thinking. He's been abundantly clear for years about his feelings for her. Paula was proof of that.

"I want to be with you," he blurts out and her heart leaps, against her will. But the wall she built inside herself is still there and it'll take more than that from him to break it down.

"No you don't," she replies. "You just want to sleep with me."

"That's not it," he argues, "I'm sick of this back and forth. I want you. I want _us."_

"Harvey…" her tone is sharp, warning him. He's treading thin ice.

He reaches for her, his face open, honest, trusting, "Donna, I'm serious. I want to…" he swallows, "I want everything with you."

"Why now?" She asks, folding her arms across her chest defensively. She needs the barrier between them, her defences down thanks to both his words, the bottle of wine and her thin robe. She feels naked and vulnerable in more ways than one.

"Because I'm sick of dancing this dance. I'm sick of being alone and watching you be alone. I'm sick of knowing you're the most important person in my life and not having you the way I want you." He pauses and she cocks her head, a silent request for him to continue. "And yes, okay, I might have watched Love Actually and the part where the guy shows up with flashcards and he says that if you can't tell someone how you feel at Christmas then when can you… it just spoke to me, okay?"

Donna watches him for a second and then bursts out laughing. "You watched Love Actually?" She asks between giggles. Harvey shrugs and she laughs harder. "You have got to be kidding."

"I'm not," he says, wounded. "I can't believe you're laughing at me here. I'm bearing my soul, telling you how I feel and you're _laughing._" He stands up swiftly, his demeanour changing just as fast. He reaches for his coat and the emotions that run through her have a dizzying effect.

"Stop it, Harvey," she says, reaching for him and wrapping his fingers around his wrist. He yanks his arm away but stops moving, staring at her, waiting for something she wasn't sure she could give him. "I'm not sure now is the right time for this conversation," is all she can muster.

"If not now, then when?" He challenges, standing his ground. She's surprised he's not running away. This isn't like him.

"Christmas is a vulnerable time." She heard how lame the words sound as they fall from her lips but she can't take them back. He senses a weak spot and pounces on it.

"Any time is a vulnerable time to have this conversation."

"I… I'm not…" she's running out of things to say, ways to protest. She's never had to fight him this hard before, he's always been the one doing the running and suddenly he's here and he's ready to talk and she doesn't know if she can handle hearing it. She doesn't know if she can handle the ramifications of what he's telling her. She does know she can't bear to lose him if this all goes wrong, and that's the only reason she's allowed him to run away time and time again. "I don't want to lose you," she whispers finally and he smiles, joy and sadness mixed into one.

"Never," he replies, his voice as low as hers. "You've had my heart for as long as we've known each other."

"This is different," she presses.

"It is," he agrees, "but I'm tired of keeping you at arm's length in order to have you near me." He shakes his head as if to clear it and then continues, "too many metaphors. I want you. In my bed, in my home, by my side. I want _us_. You're the most important person in my life and I'm running out of ways to say it."

She stares at him for a moment and thinks _there's one way you haven't said it. _He's watching her and she's watching him and it feels like an eternity passes in a number of seconds and then he reads her correctly and closes his eyes with a sigh. "You're going to make me say it?"

"Say what?" She crosses her arms again, annoyed at being called out, but more annoyed at his implication that it's a forced confession.

"I love you, Donna. And if you didn't know that before now, then maybe you're not as good at reading people as you think. Because I've loved you since that night, no, _before _that night I first said it." He seems irritated too now and anger flashes through her.

"Why are you pushing this?"

"I'm not pushing anything. I'm telling you how I feel and you've said almost nothing in return. If this isn't what you want, then I'll go." He crosses his arms too and they're in a standoff, eyes blazing, body language _screaming _but it still takes almost a full minute before anyone moves.

But when they do move it's simultaneous, no more words necessary, a shared instinct for what they both want and need. They lunge at each other, their lips fusing together in a heated kiss years in the making. Her hands move to his head and his neck, holding him to her as his arms wind around her waist, the weight of them pulling her into his body as they kiss with a furious passion. No more words are exchanged as they move toward her bedroom, tumbling onto her bed with alcohol and longing and 12 years of history propelling their actions.

Despite their initial desperation, they take their time in bed. Hands and mouths explore thoroughly, reacquainting themselves with one another's bodies after more than a decade since the last time. Harvey uses fingers and tongue to draw one and then two orgasms from Donna, her body jerking and convulsing under his skilful ministrations before she uses her own mouth to bring him close to the edge, not letting him fall until he was buried deep inside her, as physically close as a man and woman can get to one another.

Their kisses become slow, tender, gentle once he's inside her, their gazes connecting in a moment that takes their breath away.

"I love you," she whispers, finally returning his words from earlier and he smiles at her so beatifically that she wants to burst into tears.

"You have no idea…" he whispers back and she gives him a watery smile that morphs into a moan as he shifts within her. He withdraws slowly and then slides home, the sensation too much and not enough all at once.

"More," she gasps as he moves again, thrusting with vigour, every inch of him stoking the fire building within her.

"Holy shit," he gasps as he relishes in the feel of her surrounding him, wondering what the hell took them so long to get here. He pounds into her, skin slapping together, sweat slick bodies sliding as they work each other closer to the ultimate climax.

Nearing the end but not wanting it to be over. Donna attempts to roll them, pushing him to withdraw so she can ride him. He watches her breasts bouncing, taking one in his hand as the other grips her hip, helping her movements atop him.

"Fuck," she groans, throwing her head back in ecstasy as he rolls her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, sending white hot bolts of pleasure through her. She braces herself on his chest, her movements becoming more frantic and jerky as her orgasm begins, her walls fluttering around him, her body shaking as her breath comes in short pants while she rides out the wave of pleasure. A handful more jerks of his hips and Harvey is coming along with her, his body going rigid as he releases into her with a low grunt.

When she collapses on top of him, his softening cock still inside her, he pushes a sweaty lock of hair off her face, pressing his lips to her temple. She responds with a kiss to his neck.

"That was…" she's lost for words and he sympathises, unsure he could manage to utter much either.

"I know," is all he can mutter, the biological response of sleepiness beginning to take hold of him. He moves his hips a little and slips out of her, the stickiness between them making her want to move, but the love between them making her want to stay put forever.

It's a few minutes before she slides off him, reaching for tissues from her nightstand to clean them both up before drawing the covers over their cooling bodies. As she drops the tissues into the waste basket next to her bed, she notices the time. It's 12.02am. 25th December. It's Christmas.

"Merry Christmas Harvey," she breathes.

"Merry Christmas, Donna," he mumbles back, already halfway asleep.

_Best Christmas ever, _is her last thought before she joins him in slumber.

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End file.
